In This Moment
by NotSoSilent Suicide
Summary: Fleur Delacour's life was set out for her before she was even born; something of which she was very unhappy about, and a highly depressing thing. To force some destiny into her own hands, she decided to enter the Triwizard tournament. She would get her own happy ending on her own or die trying. The scale was tipping in the dying direction... until she meets Luna and her friends. TW
1. Chapter 1: At The Time

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP or its magical world.**

**A/N: This story is a rewrite, yet this first chapter is exactly like the previous first chapter with the exception of the extra scene written at the ending.**

Fleur could remember the first time she was informed what love was like. She learned the nature of the Veela. She was eight years old at the time.

"Maman, what is love like?" The young French witch asked her mother.

The French pair were seated in the garden in the backyard of the Delacour chateau. The sky above was an unusual gray. Apolline Delacour elegantly raised a perfect eyebrow. Of all the things that she assumed would escape her eight-year-old daughter's mouth, that wasn't one of them.

"Why do you ask, Fleur?" The matriarch asked her blue eyed, blonde haired miniature twin. Fleur glanced up at her mother with pure curiosity shining in her eyes.

"Because maman, we live in France, non? France is the country of love, is it not?" The girl asked in a thick accent. Apolline chuckled at her daughter's line of thinking.

"Right you are, mon cher. May I ask once again, why you are so interested?" The Veela queried suspiciously. Fleur rolled her eyes at her mother's slow comprehension.

"How will I know I am in love if I don't understand a thing on the subject?" She asked slowly as if she were speaking to a child. Apolline smirked at the irony.

"Trust me, amour. When you meet the one, you will know." The mother informed with a small smile. Fleur furrowed her eyebrows.

"Will the time really stop?" Fleur looked panic stricken.

"Non, mon ange. That is just in the movies. When you see your mate, everything else will cease to matter. When your eyes meet, you will wonder how you lived your life without them. It will be instantaneous." Apolline had a far off look in her eyes as she recounted the first time she met her husband.

"My mate?" The young witch was confused.

"Why of course! Every Veela, whether you be a full one or not, has a mate. It is just a matter of time before you find your other half." Apolline said enthusiastically. Fleur merely tilted her head slightly.

"You did not go into full detail about the Veela, maman. Are you sure every Veela has a soul mate? What if I never meet mine?" Fleur looked on the brink of a panic attack. Apolline was quick to soothe her fears.

"I am quite sure, petit." Apolline's determined tone comforted Fleur somewhat.

The two fell into a comfortable silence. Fleur was busy gazing at the sky, and for that, she missed the loving look that crossed her mother's face. After a few minutes, Apolline led Fleur within the warmth of their home. Fleur was about to ascend the stairs to her room, but the voice of her mother paused her actions.

"Fleur, would you like to accompany me to my library? I have a few books you could read on the Veela." Apolline explained. Fleur smiled, and began to bounce with excitement.

"Oui! I would enjoy that, maman." Apolline held back a laugh at her daughter's excitement.

Fleur was led by her mother to her library. They ascended the stairs, and entered the fourth door to the right. Apolline opened the door, and stepped aside for her daughter to enter first. Fleur ran to one of the chairs in the room, and waited patiently for her mother to find the book she suggested.

"_Accio Veela: Creatures of Love._" Apolline summoned the book from the higher shelf. Fleur peered on in wonder.

Apolline blew off the few dust particles that managed to stick to the cover of the book. When she deemed it clean enough, she turned towards her blonde daughter, and gave her a small smile. Fleur replied with a nervous smile.

"What has you so nervous, fille?" Apolline questioned with concern. Fleur shook her head quickly.

"Nothing, maman. What did you want to show me?" She attempted to change the subject from her rapidly increasing nerves.

"As you said before, you haven't enough information on your heritage. I simply want to give you the chance to learn, jeune." Apolline admitted while opening the book. She skimmed through the contents until she found what she was looking for. She began to read aloud.

"_Veelas are alluring creatures. Many humans -wizard, witch, or muggle- fall under what is known as the thrall. It sends them in a daze, and the veela has control over the dazed human. While many fall under the thrall, there are very few who are resistant to it. Those who refuse to fall under the thrall are usually the mate of a veela. Finding a mate in a human is a rare occasion for a veela, but it is not unheard of. It is more common for veelas to find their soul mates among others of their kind. When a veela finds their mate, it is near impossible to part from them. Once the mates perform the mating ritual, it is physically, and emotionally impossible to separate the_ _two._" Apolline read.

Fleur stiffened in the seat by the time the passage was finished. She was stunned, and everything was overwhelming her. The eight-year-old resulted in staring off into space, and closed herself off with only her thoughts. _I'm going to have a mate? Who is he? When will I meet him? What will he look like?_ Her thoughts were running rapid, and there was no controlling them.

"Fleur? Are you alright?" Apolline was hesitant by what she read, but there was no going back.

"I am fine, maman. Is it alright if I go to bed?" Fleur asked flatly.

"You haven't eaten the dinner Ethral prepared." Apolline thought about the house elf's hard work.

"I am not hungry." Apolline wordlessly examined her daughter. Eventually, she nodded her head.

Apolline sighed as she watched her daughter exit the room as quickly as she entered. She began to regret informing her at such a young age, but if Fleur was anything like herself, she wouldn't stop until she was satisfied with the answers she demanded.

"Maman!" Her three-year-old daughter squealed with delight as she hugged her mom's legs tightly. Apolline chuckled, and raised her daughter high in the air.

"Gabrielle!" She replied just as happy to see her tiny bundle of joy. Gabrielle giggled uncontrollably.

"I missed you!" Gabrielle admitted shyly. Apolline kissed her on both cheeks, which prompted another fit of giggles.

"Did you have fun at your grandmother's?" She asked with genuine curiosity. Gabrielle gave her a toothy grin.

"We went to the beach!" She announced.

"You did? That sounds like fun, Gabby. How about we head down to the dining room. Dinner is ready." Apolline said while descending the stairs.

"Where is Fleur?" The youngest daughter asked while looking around for her older sister. Apolline frowned in concern.

"She is going to bed earlier than expected." Her mother explained cryptically.

...

When Fleur closed her door, she slid down to the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest, and placed her chin upon them. Her fears were beginning to overrun her senses. She was too young to think about things of the sort. She was supposed to be thinking about Beuxbatons, the school her mother attended. Now, all that occupied her mind was how she could look a random stranger in the eye, and her life would change forever.

Her breathing became erratic; Her heart began to beat faster; Her fear began to increase. She regret asking her mother. She regret not knowing before. She was unhappy with the veela blood that ran through her veins. Even if it was less than half. Fleur was depressed about the fact that half her soul belonged to a stranger.

Fleur sighed, then hoisted herself off her carpeted floor. While she was slowly walking towards her bed, she caught her reflection in the mirror. She paused, and sighed in frustration. She smoothed out her white sundress. She shook her head, and watched her curly hair bounce at the movement. Sighing once more, Fleur changed out of her dress, and put on her pajamas. She chanced one more glance at the mirror.

"Why must my life be like that?" She asked in French to anyone who would hear. Unfortunately, no one would answer.

...

Fleur could remember the first time she experienced what love was. She met the witch known as Luna Lovegood. She was a bubbly blonde who was full of energy. Fleur was fifteen at the time.

"Gabrielle! Come back here! Immediately!" Fleur shouted in French after her ten year old sister. As always, the younger of the two continued on her path.

"Gabby! What did I just say?" Fleur shouted at back of her sister's head.

Fleur was instructed to help her sister with buying the required supplies for her first year at Beuxbatons. She was busy focusing on the Firebolt she saw in the window of Francois's Broom Shop that she failed to notice right away that her younger sister slipped away. When she regained her senses on her surroundings, she began to panic when she didn't see Gabrielle. She soon found the-ten year-old examining the candy in Valim's Candy store. Fleur scolded her sister for a good five minutes before she forced her to promise she wouldn't run away again. That promise was broken not a minute later.

"Gabrielle Delacour! I will tell mère and père!" She tried. Gabrielle continued down the beaten path leading out of the view of the public eye. Gabrielle began to walk backwards while focusing her attention on her older sister.

"I want to explore, Fleur!" Gabrielle shouted. What she failed to notice however, was the blonde that had her nose buried in a magazine that was titled _The Quibbler_. With a loud thud, both of the blonde's fell to the ground.

Fleur rushed forward, and helped her sister off the ground. When Gabrielle was standing upright, Fleur turned to the stranger who was dusting herself off. Fleur bent down to pick up the magazine, and her fingers locked with smaller ones. She felt like electricity shot through her. In a good way. A fantastic way. If there was a such way. The other fingers snatched away quickly as if they were burned. She no doubt felt it too. When Fleur glanced up, her eyes locked with a pair of blue-gray eyes, and it felt like all the air was sucked from her lungs. Everything around her seemed to fade from her conscious mind, and she only had eyes for the perfect stranger before her. After what felt like hours, she cleared her throat, and noticed the slight blush that colored the young girls cheeks.

"I believe this is yours." Fleur said while handing over the magazine. She was cautious of physical contact.

"Thank you." The young blonde whispered airily. Fleur smiled warmly despite her best efforts not to.

"It was the least I could do. After all, it was my wrecking ball of a sister that knocked you down, oui? My name is Fleur. Fleur Delacour." She replied while politely reaching her hand out. There was a faint "Hey!" from behind them.

"My name is Luna Lovegood. Were you out searching for nargles too?" Luna asked curiously. Fleur and Gabrielle had a blank look on their faces.

"Um, is that an English word?" Fleur asked baffled. Luna narrowed her eyes questioningly.

"It should be. You don't read _The Quibbler_ do you?" She asked. Fleur shook her head.

"I am afraid I have not." Fleur answered honestly. Luna was silent for a moment before an idea came to her mind. She pushed the magazine into the older female's hands.

"You should catch up. If we were to ever meet again, you will know what a nargle is, and realize how crazy you are to not know what it is!" Luna exclaimed.

Fleur's heart picked up. _If we were to ever meet again._ Did that mean that she planned to see her again? _Don't be ridiculous! You just met! Well guess what, you're already falling for her._ She scowled in frustration. When Fleur looked up to respond, Luna was gone. Fleur inhaled sharply, and began to panic yet again that day.

"Wait! Luna! Come back." Fleur suddenly felt empty. She glanced over at Gabrielle, who was startled at the tears that were forming in Fleur's eyes.

"What is the problem?" The younger blonde asked with concern. Fleur exhaled shakily.

"Nothing. I am fine." Fleur lied. _Lie, lie, lie!_ She felt broken, and that scared her beyond belief. She forced a smile for her sister's sake.

"We should be going home." Fleur whispered with a cracking voice. Gabrielle nodded wordlessly. Even though they didn't get everything on the list, that wasn't the best time to finish. Her sister clearly needed the comfort of their mother.

...

When the sisters arrived home, Fleur immediately locked herself in her room. Gabrielle on the other hand, went to find her mother, and explain what was going on with Fleur. She was worried about her sister, and she knew Fleur wasn't going to tell their mother, so she had to take matters into her own hands.

"Maman, Fleur was upset today. I don't know what happened. One minute, I ran into some girl, and the next, Fleur was just staring into 'er eyes. When the girl disappeared, Fleur looked like she was going to cry!" Gabrielle explained quickly. Realization dawned on Apolline. She knelt before Gabrielle.

"Gabby, now I want you to give your sister some space. I will talk to her when she escapes the confines of her room." Apolline said.

Gabrielle looked like she wanted to protest, but she said nothing. When the young girl turned on her heel and ran upstairs, Apolline sighed. She didn't know whether to feel relieved her daughter found her mate, or worried that things went unfinished between the two. She ran a shaky hand through her blonde shoulder-length locks.

"I must fix this." She whispered to herself. With that, she set out on her new self appointed task.

...

Fleur could remember the first cut. The way she found solace in a blade. She was ashamed of herself afterwards, but during, she felt the loss she felt lessen. Fleur was sixteen at the time.

"Fleur! What is taking so long?" Apolline shouted from the other side of the bathroom door.

Fleur was so startled that she dropped the blade. It fell into the water in the sink that was swirling a light shade of pink. The pounding on the door increased, as did her heart rate. She grabbed a hand towel, and applied pressure to the cut on her stomach. Since she was too young to perform magic outside of school, she had to reside to hiding her nasty act.

"Just a minute, mère!" Fleur shouted at the door. She heard a muffled quip, and the knocking on the door decreased.

"What are you doing in there?" Apolline asked. Fleur hadn't been the same since returning home with her sister a year ago, and she was fearing the worst.

"Washing my hands. Just a moment!" Fleur responded. She inwardly congratulated herself for not speaking with a shaky voice.

"Come into the living room when you are done. We need to speak." With that, she left.

Fleur began to sob quietly. She wrapped gauges around her stomach until blood didn't seep through the white cloth. She slowly turned, and unlocked the door after she disposed of the evidence. After smoothing out her shirt, she tentatively walked downstairs. Oh how she despised the winter holiday at the moment.

"You wanted to speak with me?" Fleur asked as calmly as she was capable of.

"I wanted to talk to you one more time about this Luna." Apolline started hesitantly. She hadn't the faintest clue where to begin. Fleur groaned.

"Again mother, there is nothing more to say. We met for a brief moment, she handed me magazine, and then she was gone." Fleur recounted sadly. Apolline sighed sadly for her grieving daughter.

"Would that be the same magazine that you keep by your bedside?" Apolline asked even though she knew the answer. Fleur laughed bitterly.

"Pathetic, aren't I?" Fleur snarled bitterly. She despised herself. No. She despised who she was born to be. Part veela.

"Far from it, Fleur! You are in love. That doesn't make you pathetic. I don't want to hear you talk about yourself in that manner ever again." Apolline said sternly. Fleur nodded mutely.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?" Apolline asked with mock calm. Fleur's eyes widened significantly. She began to stutter.

"Wh-what are you talking abo-about?" Fleur's calm mask slipped quickly. Her mother knew.

"I love you, Fleur. You are a massive part of my life, and what you are doing is paining me as much as you. Please. I will get you help. We will find your mate. I promise." Apolline swore. Just as she had since she was eight-years-old, Fleur forced a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

...

Fleur could remember the first time the news of the Triwizard Tournament returning after such a long period had reached her ears. It was yesterday. Fleur's bloodshot eyes stared up at the ceiling of her dormitory. Her comfy, silver duvet was abandoned on the floor at the end of her bed. Her long hair was knotted and disheveled from running irritated fingers through her silvery-blonde locks, and across her scalp.

A soft snore ripped her attention back to reality. Fleur's head snapped over to her sleeping dorm mate. The girl tossed in her sleep, but then went still. After a moment, Fleur's eyes returned to the same spot on the ceiling she had been staring at since she lied down for bed at eight... It was now midnight. With an annoyed growl, she forcefully turned onto her side. The change in positions did nothing to scatter her line of thinking however.

_I am eighteen... I could very well enter._ That line of thinking had been wrapping itself back-and-forth across the French witch's brain since she heard that it was a very dangerous competition in which several champions had met their untimely deaths. Fleur remembered the way her eyebrows furrowed at the buzz of excitement that hung in the air immediately after Madame Maxime's announcement. Granted, she wasn't thoroughly unpleased with the thought of the Triwizard Tournament being revived, but she wasn't jumping up and down with excitement, unlike some of her classmates.

Now here she was, contemplating whether it was worth entering or not. She had no need for the thousand galleon prize, and everyone at Beauxbatons knew that. The fame seemed enticing. People would respect her, cheer for her, actually _see_ her. So yes, that was one point in favor of heading off to Hogwarts in October. Then there were the horrifyingly life-threatening challenges that she would no doubt have to face. Suddenly, a _real_ smile wormed its way through her somber mask. Yes, she would definitely enter.

The thought excited her as much as it filled her with anxiety that bubbled in her gut. Yet, it was that anxiety that made her feel something she couldn't really feel since she was fifteen. Because in this moment, she felt good; No... she felt alive.


	2. Chapter 2: Another Glance

The brisk Halloween weather didn't bother Fleur much. She couldn't really say the same for her schoolmates as they clutched onto their slim slips, while some pressed their faces into their scarves as they anticipated the chill that was sure to seep into their clothes the second they stepped out onto the grounds of Hogwarts. As usual, Fleur rolled her eyes at the other witches' behavior.

The carriage rocked and bumped as they hurtled down through the clouds. The humungous castle that was Hogwarts became visible as the several rather large Pegasus broke through the thin clouds. Fleur leaned forward to get a closer look, and could barely just make out the small dots huddled together just before the entrance. _Obviously the students_. Fleur leaned back as the ride became bumpy once more.

She could hear the excited buzz going on around her, but paid the other French students no mind whatsoever. Large hooves pounded against the ground, and less than a second later, the loud sound of the wheels crashing after them followed by the rattling of the windows echoed throughout the schoolyard, and in Fleur's head. The vibration shook through her feet, and up her legs, so that explained why she didn't necessarily stand right away; her legs were too jelly-like and wobbly to support her weight.

The door to the enchanted carriage burst open, and a frazzled wizard scrambled out to release the golden steps. Madame Maxime was close behind him, and wordlessly stepped onto the Hogwarts grounds. The faint murmurs and gasps of the British crowd reached Fleur's ears even as she was glued to her seat. It suddenly grew quiet as the Headmistress strode forward, signaling her students to follow.

Fleur quickly stepped out of the carriage to take in the sight of gawking faces and nervous looks of innocent, little first years. She barely paid attention as Madame Maxime and the bizarre Headmaster of Hogwarts greeted each other as if they were merely catching up over a spot of tea. Her eyes skimmed over the small first years, nervous second years, confused third years, curious fourth years, amused fifth years, mischievous sixth years, and excited seventh years.

Her eyes were suddenly drawn to an awkward trio standing close together just before her. A lanky redheaded boy was positively drooling over seeing her, while a bushy haired girl and a skinny boy wearing glasses were as close as could be without drawing too much attention... but Fleur saw the way their hands brushed over the other, almost tentatively. An amused smile almost found its way to her lips, but the order to head inside from her Headmistress stopped any smile or grin in its tracks.

Fleur would be lying if she said she didn't find any relief from the torches built into the walls of the entrance hall. The flames warmed her up nicely. Again, she rolled her eyes at her schoolmates' overdramatic shuddering as they wrapped themselves in their slips and scarves more tightly. Honestly, the cold wasn't so bad. It would bring her great amusement to see them in the winter time. A small chuckle bubbled in her throat at the thought, prompting a few heads to turn in her direction.

Before any of them could question her sanity, a shout was heard outside. Every head turned to the lake bordering Hogwarts. The whirlpool seemed to be spinning in the water, but was that something protruding from the opening? Suddenly, a huge boat was bobbing along the surface of the lake, and was steering towards land. Voices broke through the silence as a plank was thrown down, and several severe looking boys bundled nice and tight underneath fur coats crossed over, and marched across the yard.

The Headmaster followed with a crazed look in his steely eyes. He smiled a cruel, yellow smile as he strode behind his students with... Viktor Krum? Hushed, yet excited whispers followed them as they stopped in front of Dumbledore.

"Ah, Karkaroff! Nice to see you here at Hogwarts!" greeted Dumbledore pleasantly. Sometimes Fleur questioned his senses. Karkaroff responded with a false smile.

"It is nice to be here, although I must say, this is... quite _different_ than the fine school of Durmstrang." remarked the stony-faced man. Dumbledore chuckled heartily.

"To each his own, wouldn't you agree Madame Maxime?"

Madame Maxime tensed as the attention of Karkaroff was brought over to her. She nodded curtly at the Headmasters. Dumbledore, sensing the tension thickening between the other two, clapped his hands, and broke the silence.

"Very well then, I think it would be in the best interest of our students to head inside the warm castle!" he said. "After all, it would do us no good if our students were bedridden with numb feet and head colds!"

Slowly, the crowd shuffled inside the building, and into the Great Hall. The Durmstrangs fell into step with the students wearing green and silver ties and scowls. Fleur hesitated, and glanced around. Ultimately, something told her to follow the students who were also wearing bits of blue. Once everyone was planted in their seats, Dumbledore cheerfully took his place at the podium in front of the long table that the staff was seated behind. He cleared his throat to gather the attention of everyone in the room, but it didn't really matter. Everyone's attention was firmly planted on him anyways.

"Welcome! Welcome!" called Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye. "I am honored to have the two great schools of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang in our midst. I do hope you all enjoy your stay, and Hogwarts is up to your standards."

A few Beauxbatons girls scoffed and muttered insults in French. The Durmstrangs remained silent as they carefully scrutinized every inch of the Great Hall and the gold platters placed in front of them. Fleur could see the bushy haired girl from before glowering at her scoffing peers, and she withheld a small grin. Dumbledore's booming voice dragged her attention back towards him.

"I am sure most of you," his eyes glanced over his every student in the Hall, "are aware of what exactly why tonight is taking place, but I shall make sure everyone is up to date. There was once a tournament that took place, and rivaled between three schools. However, due to the extreme danger, and, regrettable, deaths, it was long ago cancelled indefinitely."

Murmurs were spreading now, and Fleur even leaned in to hear this part better.

"Yet, here we are, and this tournament is back on, and I am highly honored to have it hosted hear at Hogwarts." exclaimed Dumbledore. "There are two staff members at the Ministry of Magic in our presence, and they are to be on the judge's panel during the Triwizard Tournament."

All eyes turned to the two completely different men seated at the staff table. One was radiating excitement as he bounced in his seat. He quickly flung himself to his feet once Dumbledore introduced him as Ludo Bagman. There were several claps for the boisterous wizard. Next to him sat a rigid man with a thin mustache that matched his hair. His face was tense, and the muscles in his cheek twitched. He introduced as Barty Crouch Sr., and a few polite claps praised him. Fleur's eyes immediately crossed over to a mangled-looking man with scars and a bizarre eye that whirled around in it's socket. It landed on Fleur, who stared right back before slowly glancing away.

"As all of you know, and as I have said at the beginning of the year feast, no one under the age of seventeen," his eyes were full of amusement as they landed on twin redheads that reminded Fleur of the drooling boy outside who were grumbling angrily to themselves; "Is allowed to enter their name for a chance of being chosen to participate in the Triwizard Tournament."

The grumbling died out, and Fleur could see the calculating expressions on the whispering twins' faces. Fleur briefly wondered about all the trouble those two have undoubtedly gotten into. Fleur's eye quickly caught the one of the bushy haired girl. She offered the younger witch a polite smile, but all she received was a suspicious narrowing of the eyes from the girl before she looked away. Disappointment blossomed in her chest without warning, but Fleur shook it off and barely paid attention to the rest of Dumbledore's speech.

"Now, to present the decider of the champions!" he said. The twins were grinning wildly like madmen as they craned their necks to gaze over the sea of students.

Fleur, too, was searching for the one who would decide who the three champions were going to be. A goblet was wheeled out in front of the staff table. Fleur was perplexed, as was the rest of the crowd, but suddenly blue flames roared to life inside, cutting off the confused voices, turning them to gasps of astonishment. A startled intake of breath came from Fleur as well, and her eyes widened in curious excitement.

"I present to you, the Goblet of Fire! Yes, yes, by the confused looks you are all wearing, I see I must explain further." chuckled Dumbledore goodheartedly. "Whoever desires to enter their names must write their full names on a piece of parchment along with their age and school name. They must then drop the parchment into the fire, and that will be all.

"However, I am required to warn you that those of the faint of heart should steer clear of entering, for once you enter your name, there will be no going back." warned Dumbledore seriously. It was the most serious Fleur has seen him in her short time at Hogwarts. His expression stayed that way for a few seconds before a warm grin crossed over his frown, and scratched it away. "Enough of this, I believe we are all very starved, if I do say so myself! Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates miraculously filled themselves of food of all sorts. Fleur was pleasantly surprised to see quite a few of her favorite French delicacies piled high in front of her. She reached out to spoon herself a helping of Bouillabaisse onto her plate, only to find it all gone. Apparently it wasn't only _her_ favorite. She shot her classmates a dirty look before she hoisted herself off the bench. Her eyes zoned in on the Bouillabaisse at the table of students wearing scarlet and gold just in front of the bushy haired girl that shot her a scrutinizing look, the skinny, dark-haired boy with glasses, and the drooling boy with flaming red hair.

Just as she began walking away from her table, the empty plate of her favorite food filled itself once more. Fleur blew a strand of hair out of her eyes with an exasperated puff. _Oh well, I'm already on my way_. For some reason, she wanted to make a good impression on the bushy haired girl and her boyfriend. Of course Fleur didn't know about that _for sure_, but she was part-Veela... she knew about romance and things of the sort. _If only I was the love expert when it came to my own life_. She physically shook her head to rid her mind of those sort of thoughts just as a seed of depression blossomed deep within her chest. Her fingers itched by her sides to find release, but she was in public. Surely she knew better than to shame herself right then and there?

Reality forced upon her once again when she heard the impatient clearing of the throat. Fleur's eyes snapped up to meet the brown eyes that shown with slight contempt mixed with confused curiosity. The boy wearing glasses was staring between his classmate and the French witch. Fleur offered him a polite smile, and planned to do the same with the boy across from them, but her eyes froze on the lightning-shaped scar clear as day on his forehead.

"I, uh... oh." mumbled Fleur incoherently. Harry shrunk away from her gaze, and she noticed the anger flaring on the other witch's face. Trying quick to redeem herself, Fleur rushed to get to what she originally came over for. "I am terribly sorry! I meant to ask if you were finished with the Bouillabaisse."

To her utmost disappointment, the redheaded boy answered instead. "Take it! It was delicious!"

"Oui... It usually is, is it not?"

After standing there awkwardly for a moment, Fleur found no reason to stay. Of course, Harry Potter's wizard friend was more than ready to shrug aside to allow her room on his side of the table, but why stay somewhere where the majority didn't wish for your presence? A flicker passed over the witch's face. Could she have picked up on Fleur's disappointment that managed to leak into her voice without her consent? Well, if she did, she didn't say anything to put the older girl at ease.

With a silent sigh, Fleur gripped the bowl tightly as she made her way back to her table (Ravenclaw, she found out) to begin eating.

...

The dishes cleared out as the feast was over with. Stomachs were full, and eyes drooped as the ceiling above darkened. Even just by looking at the complete replica of the sky, Fleur knew it would be windy when they made their across the grounds to reach the carriage. With a sigh, Fleur leaned her cheek against the palm of her hand, thoroughly bored out of her mind.

Dumbledore rambled on about after-feast announcements, but Fleur honestly couldn't care less. She knew what she had to do to enter herself into the tournament, she knew how classes were going to proceed during the duration at Hogwarts, and she was certain that she wouldn't step foot in the castle again lest it be for meals or to bury herself in books from the notorious Hogwarts library.

Fleur closed her eyes, and sighed heavily, absolutely ready for bed. Her eyes were bleary, but she reminded herself she wanted to rush to tear a piece of parchment and scribble her information onto it for the goblet. She opened her eyes, and blinked rapidly to rid the sleep from her eyes. She looked around the Great Hall- and completely froze.

_H-How_? Her body felt like ice was pumping through her veins, and she could swear she paled to the point where it was noticeable on her fair skin. Almost like flipping a switch, the ice melted, and her nerves and limbs were on fire. Fleur wasn't sure if she blinked at all during this whole intense moment. Her mouth was opening and closing on its own accord, and in that moment, Fleur couldn't bring herself to really care if anyone noticed her bizarre behavior.

She didn't care if Dumbledore was winding down and signaling it was bedtime; She didn't care that her classmates were calling her name to get her to follow them back, She didn't care that they eventually grew exasperated and gave up, leaving her sitting there with only herself; In this one moment, the only thing that mattered at all was the pair of stormy gray eyes that were staring back at her with confusion.

Suddenly, all thoughts of entering the tournament (not that she wouldn't enter) banished from her mind. Because sitting right there, gazing back at her like she was a psycho, was the girl she lost so long ago. There was the girl who handed her the magazine that she (quite humiliatingly) packed with her for the trip. But no one had the right to judge her! No, if she were to die here, not that she cared before, at least she had the comfort of _The Quibbler_ with her. It was only fair to herself. But that didn't seem to matter because her mate was right there within reach!

But wait... she couldn't possibly act on it, not with her being such a young age. No, she had to befriend the girl first, and then, over time, maybe she could finally get what she wanted. She'd get her happiness.

**A/N: Okay, so this might not exactly match up with the books, but this is mainly going to be my own storyline. You can obviously tell the ships, but seeing as Luna is so young, they won't get together for a while... I do have plans that extend to DH, so she should be old enough before I wrap everything up.**


	3. Chapter 3: Madeline

Fleur clutched onto the parchment in her hands with trembling fingers. The younger students have already ran up to bed, but a few seventh years held back, contemplating whether entering was worth it or not. The French witch swallowed past the lump that formed in her throat. At Hogwarts, she was just as lonely as any other time, but a certain blow to her defenses wore down on her mental state that was already ragged. Tears prickled in the corner of her eyes, but she swore to herself she would not break down here. As she slowly forced one foot in front of the other, she recalled the events with Luna that took place just ten minutes ago.

_"H-Hello, Luna." stammered Fleur nervously. It was like a dream she was afraid she'd wake up from. Luna was right there! But wait, she was wearing a look of utter confusion._

_"Uhm, hi... Do I know you?" questioned Luna hesitantly. The air was ripped from her lungs even though the airy tone Luna trademarked was normally disarming. Fleur opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to find a way to respond._

_"Eh, remember in France?" pleaded Fleur. She was internally berating herself. Of course, Luna wouldn't remember her! It was so long ago, and she probably has better things to think about than her._

_Luna opened her mouth to say something, but a voice cut their conversation short._

_"Luna, are you coming?" inquired the bushy haired girl who appeared to be everywhere. She was staring at Fleur with an unreadable expression that unnerved the older witch. Harry was shuffling awkwardly behind her, and the redheaded boy was gazing at her once again._

_"Yes, I am, Hermione, thank you for coming for me." smiled Luna before she turned back to Fleur. "Goodbye!" Their group of four were setting off with a giggling Luna, and Hermione and Harry wrestling the boy who was infatuated with the part-Veela._

_"My name's Ron!" shouted Ron with a wide smile. Fleur was too downhearted to give him a false smile and a wave. Instead, she just stared down at the empty table with a heavy heart._

Reality wiped away the memory just as she reached the Goblet of Fire. She could feel the warmth of the blue flames that scorched through the air. Eyes turned to her, and all attention was on her. It was time to pull on her brave face, and fake it with her bitchy, _I'm-better-than-you_ demeanor. She carefully threw her name into the flames, and watched it disappear. Fleur only took a moment to wonder where it went before she straightened her spine, and put on a smirk before strutting out the Great Hall. She knew all eyes were still on her, so she added a slight sway of her hips.

A few wolf-whistles followed her out the school. If she were any of her classmates, she would relish in the perverted attention she received, but no, she was disgusted by it. The only reason she acted the way she did was to hide her burning secrets and dark feelings so no one would be the wiser. After reaching the carriage, she flung the door open, and stepped inside the enchanted space.

From the outside, it looked like an ordinary carriage, but on the inside, it was a large corridor was rooms. The extravagant door at the end of the hall belonged to the Headmistress. It was firmly shut, so Fleur decided to head off to bed seeing as her tiredness was seeping back into her bones. Laughter and giggles were muffled by closed doors, but she didn't join in with the others' fun, she merely chose to stay out of it in favor of slipping into bed early.

With the door locked, and everyone's attention elsewhere, Fleur plopped down onto the foot of her bed, and put her head in her hands. She felt so alone, and there was not really anything she could do about it. She had no friends at Beauxbatons, and clearly no one at Hogwarts. The sobs tore from her throat, and once they started, it was impossible to reel them back in. So there she was, crying out into her palms, and sniffling like a petulant child. She hadn't felt this sick of herself since two weeks ago.

The reminder of her last release caused Fleur to snap her head up quickly. She had attempted to quit several times, but sometimes things got a little too difficult, and the physical break was a little better than her mental and emotional one. Yet after every single time she came down from her personal high, the evidence of what she had done, and the blood that caked her hands made her want to vomit. Sometimes she did... but that was ages ago. She learned to grow numb instead.

After making sure the door was tightly locked, Fleur reached underneath her mattress, and found solace in the cool texture of a blade. Her mind was already beginning to slow down, and she sighed. She was smart about where she carved in to. Beauxbatons girls hardly wore long-sleeves and pants, even though Fleur would prefer that to the powdered blue short skirts and thin blouses that were accustomed. Therefore, she couldn't really scar her arms or thighs in fear of someone catching a fleeting peek.

So that's why Fleur was sitting on the edge of her bed, on edge herself, and was raising her blouse. Years of fading scars littered her stomach. Some were white and raised into fading scars, while some were newer, ugly jagged messes. Fleur set the blade against her flesh, and slowly applied pressure as she drew it across.

The French witch knew better than to cut too deeply lest she black out, and someone catch her. A thin trickle of blood trailed down, but before it could seep into the waist of her skirt, she ran a finger over the drop, smearing it over her skin. The contrast of her pale skin and the scarlet of her blood was beautiful in a way to her, and it was something she found beauty in every single time.

A lazy smile graced her lips, and she decided that was enough for the night. After carefully tucking the blade back underneath her mattress, she grabbed a hand cloth from the bathroom, and gently pressed it to the shallow wound that was already starting to stop bleeding. Fleur lied down on her bed with one arm propped up beneath her head, and the other pressing the cloth to her skin.

The part-Veela stared up at the ceiling, thinking about what was to come if she was accepted into the tournament. A flickering image of Luna passed by her closed eyelids, and her heart constricted. Banishing all thoughts whatsoever, Fleur forced her mind to go blank, and that's how it remained until she was asleep.

...

The first rays of sunlight broke through Fleur's curtains, and spilled over her eyelids, causing them to flutter. With an irritated scowl, she flung the comforter away from her body, and slowly leaned forward until she sat on the side of her bed. Fleur ran a hand through her disheveled hair, and across her sweaty face. Another nightmare plagued her unconscious mind, yet she had no recollection of it when she awoke, leaving her troubled and angry.

Noises broke out behind Fleur's door. _They must be awake as well_. With a sigh of defeat, Fleur detangled her body from the sheets, and set to work on finding fresh clothes to put on for the day ahead.

She absentmindedly scratched an itch on her bare stomach, and yelped in surprise. The haze that fogged her sleep-ridden mind began to dissolve, and last night's actions replaced it. Fleur cringed before she braced herself to look down at the work she had made. A red line marred her already scarred flesh. A mirthless chuckle peppered with a hint of self-hatred worked its way out of her throat. Fleur always adored the art of painting, and it seems she found the perfect canvas to litter with lines and red paint.

A loud banging echoed off her door, startling her so bad she was frozen where she stood. Madame Maxime called out ("Lesson's are about to start, dames!") before marching down the corridor for the next poor girl to scare awake. Heart pounding rapidly in chest, Fleur scrambled through her drawer for a shirt, any shirt, to hide the evidence of what she had done. Now, Fleur isn't the most girly-ish person you could ever meet, and she had a lot more complicated things on her mind, but even she had to find bottoms that would look cute with her top.

After her usual morning routine in the bathroom, Fleur unlocked her door, and made her way down to the single room where a few Beauxbatons girls were already lining up in front of. From an onlooker's perspective, there was no way there could be any more room in the already-too-large carriage. Yet, the classroom was perhaps the biggest room on the bus. After all, it had to store several girls and their teacher/Headmistress for the time being.

Fleur made polite conversation with the few Beauxbatons girls she could stand, but she caught wind of a strong perfume that made her eyes tear up and her throat start constricting. Even through her now haze-riddled mind, Fleur knew exactly who was coming: Madeline Niham. If Fleur wasn't too busy choking on the perfume, she would have groaned aloud in pure irritation.

Rumor has it that just as Hogwarts is split into four Houses, Beauxbatons is split into its own three sections, and Fleur could tell you that those rumors were one hundred percent correct. First, there were the bitches. The classic run-of-the-mill, I'm-better-than-you assholes who basically ruled the school. Fleur was in that section, yet she wasn't very popular... she wondered why. Next, there were the sluts. With good looks and even better bodies, these girls (and even guys) were not ashamed to flaunt themselves to get whatever or whoever they wanted. Lastly, there were the slutty bitches... combine everything about the first two, and that's the result. That was Madeline's section.

"'ello Fleur, I couldn't 'elp but to notice 'ow you were gawking at a leetle girl last night during ze feast." snorted Madeline with a cuel glint in her eye. The rather decent-sized group of girls behind her were guffawing as though the heard the best joke of their lives. It made Fleur want to smack them more than she wanted Madeline.

"I was not _gawking_ at the girl." she retorted sharply. "I was merely stunned to 'ave caught sight of 'er after so long." The anger inside her was bringing out her French accent.

"It looked to me as though you were drooling." snipped Madeline with a cold grin that made Fleur's eye twitch.

"Non!" snapped Fleur angrily. "I was not!"

"Really, I zink you were about to pounce." whispered Madeline, amused at how ruffled up she was making Fleur.

"Enough!" shouted Made Maxime, startling everyone that was too busy paying attention to the spat between Fleur and Madeline to realize their Headmistress' arrival. "Ze two of you will explain to me ze meaning of zis argument after class."

Needless to say, the entire class period was filled with nasty looks and dread as the clock ticked away their precious detention-free moments. When the timer went off signaling the end of the first period, only Fleur and Madeline stayed back as the others used their little break before coming back. Madame Maxime stood at her desk in front of the other smaller desks with her arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face.

"Now, tell me why my students were 'uddled around like zey were watching a street performer." ordered Madame Maxime coolly.

"She started it!"

"Non, it is not my fault you were staring at zat leetle girl like she was ze one who 'ung the moon and stars!" countered Madeline huffily. Madame Maxime's eyes widened marginally before she cooled her features into an unreadable mask.

"Miss Nahim, you receive a week's detention." said the Headmistress evenly, which prompted outraged replies. "Leave my classroom until ze next period."

Fleur watched as the furious redhead stalked off, but not without catching her eye, and giving her a triumphant smirk. After the door slammed, Fleur's nerves were written all over her face. She turned back to face Madame Maxime to offer weak apologies, but the Headmistress was observing the younger witch closely. Upon closer inspection, the giant woman's features softened, and she patted Fleur gently on the shoulder.

"So, is zis true, Fleur? 'ave you found your mate?"

Fleur gave her a shaky nod, and was thoroughly surprised when she was enveloped in a gentle, but bone-crushing hug.

"I am 'appy for you, chéri." gushed Madame Maxime.

Fleur was all too glad to melt into the motherly embrace, but she couldn't. Did she really find her mate? Granted, the little witch wasn't a mere illusion she invented with her mind, she was very much within her close proximity, but that was just it. Yes, she found Luna, but the way Fleur saw it, she didn't find her mate. She couldn't do any of the things mated couples do, so again, did she really find her mate?

"She is far too young, and she does not even remember me." muttered Fleur sadly. A finger hooked underneath her chin, and lifted her head that was hung low.

"Enfant, why should zat spoil your 'appiness?" Madame Maxime asked. "Ze way I see it, she is alive and 'ealthy, and 'as not completely thrown out ze idea of becoming amis, friends."

"I do not think I could just be her friend forever." whispered Fleur hollowly. "Does that make me selfish, Madame Maxime?"

"Whatever for?" questioned the Headmistress, genuinely shocked and confused ny the question.

"I want her to be happy, I really do, but I couldn't live if it was with someone else." sniffed Fleur, tears streaming down her cheeks, but she didn'y even realize. "Others would be content just knowing the one they love is truly happy, but I don't know if I'm that strong!"

"Shh, ma chérie, shh," soothed Madame Maxime quietly. "Zat does not make you selfish in the slightest. It just means you will love 'er stronger than anyone else could. As long as your 'eart beats, it beats only for 'er."

"You do not think it is weird to love a girl so young?" Fleur asked timidly, afraid of the answer. Madame Maxime only smiled.

"When ze time is right, you will love 'er even more zan you do in zis moment, and zat will be ze greatest magic of all."

...

Morning classes for everyone finished, and lunchtime rolled around. The chilly air was just a nippy as ever as Fleur trekked across Hogwarts grounds, and pulled her coat tighter around herself as she took shelter in the Great Hall. There were vacant seats for her to choose from, but decided to stick to the Ravenclaw table. Not that she was specifically looking (stalking) for someone! Her eyes involuntarily skimmed over the Hall.

Instead of catching a flash of gold, she caught Madeline's cruel stare. Her cassmates' snickers reached her ears, making her blush furiously. Fleur muttered to herself before putting her head down, thoroughly losing her appetite. So what if she stared? She was allowed to look all she wanted! It wasn't like she was acting on her Veela instincts, so she had a right to do whatever she wanted... right?

Someone cleared their throat beside Fleur. She scowled angrily into her arms. Madeline sure did grate her nerves, and she was relentless about doing it. Fleur whipped her head up, ready to shoot down Madeline with a glare of her own, but was stunned by who was standing in front if her. The scowl was wiped away, and her face revealed how dumbfounded she was.

Um, hello, Fleur... right?" greeted Hermione awkwardly.

**A/N: So as you can probably tell, I suck at writing French accents, and that is the part I hate about writing Fleur fanfics. I decided to just forget about writing Fleur's accent, but it just doesn't seem right to ditch Madeline's and Madame Maxime's and whoever else shows up. So, just please bear with me on that front, please?**


End file.
